The Start of the End
by paintmepink
Summary: As the world around them changes, three friends learn they must change with it. Set post HBP.
1. Chapter 1

Bill and Fleur's wedding lasted far into the night. It had been a beautiful ceremony and an even more beautiful reception. Even Hermione had to admit that, and she wasn't in the practice of admitting that anything having to do with Fleur Delacour was beautiful. Actually, she supposed she must be called Fleur Weasley now, which was nearly laughable, as the names just didn't even remotely flow well together. But still, they both seemed happy, and Hermione supposed that was all that mattered. It was important, she reasoned, for everyone to be as happy as they could possibly be these days. It was also important to celebrate the happy events to the fullest extent, as there wasn't much cause for celebration these days.

She'd returned to the Burrow after they wedding reception, along with her best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley; Ron's sister, Ginny; and his parents. Everyone else had disappeared to their own individual homes, leaving the rather small party to return to the Burrow alone. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had gone straight to bed when they'd arrived, both of them looking completely drained, both physically and mentally, after having married the first of their seven children off. The four teenagers stayed awake, though, and convened in the sitting room.

Ginny's long red hair had been tied into several elegant knots for the wedding, and Hermione was currently trying to work them out for her. She was using her wand, but the effort seemed almost fruitless, as she rarely accomplished more than making the knots worse. In the end, she gave up the use of her wand and went to work trying to remove them without magic.

"This is the most uncomfortable dress ever," Ginny sighed as she wriggled around a little at Hermione's feet. "I feel like I can't breathe."

The dress Fleur had chosen for her bridesmaids was made of gold satiny material and twisted round and round the body to form a flowing train. It was actually quite beautiful, but Hermione could see how it might be a bit uncomfortable. She actually wasn't that big of a fan of the gold, but she supposed it worked well on Ginny, whose hair had caused pink to be "zeemply out of ze question."

"Well, then go take it off," Hermione said, laying down comb she was currently holding. "This is going to take a long time."

Ginny disappeared upstairs, seeming most grateful to have the opportunity to rid herself of the garment. Hermione turned to the boys and saw that they had their heads bent close to each other and were whispering in quiet voices.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, not caring one bit if she came off as nosy. They shouldn't be whispering anyway; it was rude.

Harry and Ron both looked up at her and gave her odd glances as though they'd forgotten she was there.

"We're trying to work out how I'm supposed to tell Mum and Dad that I'm not going back to Hogwarts," Ron said finally. The school had sent them letters just the day before announcing the start of term for September 1st as always. Apparently the governors had decided that it was more profitable for the school to stay open and accept any students who wished to attend rather than shying away and abandoning the education of a great majority of Europe's young magical students. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were not going back, however; they were going to attempt something far more dangerous. They were going to track down Voldemort and destroy him. Or Harry was anyway; Ron and Hermione were just going to help and support in any way that they could. It was ultimately up to Harry to finish Voldemort off, though, and they all knew it.

"You haven't told them?" she asked, shocked. "I thought you told them ages ago."

"We haven't even been back but for a month, Hermione," Ron said, exasperated. "That's hardly ages."

"Well, I thought you'd told them a month ago then," she shot back sharply.

"I was waiting," he said with a shrug. "You know, in case they closed Hogwarts. Then I wouldn't have to tell them at all."

"They can't stop you, Ron," she said pointedly. "You're an adult."

"So were Fred and George, but that didn't stop Mum trying to murder them when they ditched their final year."

"That was to open a joke shop. This is for something important."

Ron and Harry both looked at her as though she should know that a joke shop _was _important, but neither of them said anything. Harry looked toward the fire, and Ron sighed.

"I just know what my mum'll say. She'll try to stop me. She'll try to stop all of us. She'll try to forbid it."

"Well, let her try," Hermione said, shrugging. "Harry'll be seventeen in two days. What is she really going to do?"

"She'll be terrified." Harry spoke up for the first time. "I don't know what to tell her."

"We'll just tell her the truth," Hermione said simply.

"We _can't _tell her the truth," Harry cut in. "To tell her the truth, we'd have to tell her about the horcruxes, and I swore to Dumbledore that I wouldn't tell anyone but you two."

Hermione hadn't thought of that. When she'd told her own parents that she wasn't returning to school, they'd put up their own fair parental fight. _"You're only seventeen years old. You most certainly are finishing school!" _She had been quick to inform them that in the wizarding world, she was an adult and fully qualified to do whatever magic necessary. She told them that she had responsibilities and that she had to take care of them. She'd also told them point-blank that they could not stop her. And she had won. Telling the Weasleys, though, was going to be a bit more difficult. They would demand to know what was going on and where they were going and what they were doing. It was a lot easier to sidestep her own parents' questions with vague answers than it would be to get anything over on Ron's.

"Then we'll lie."

Ron and Harry stared at her for the second time. It wasn't a usual occurrence, she knew, for them to hear her suggest lying. Truthfully, she hated lying, and she tried to avoid it whenever possible. When she was a child, she had always done everything in her power to avoid telling a lie, absolutely refusing to even if she knew the truth would get in her into trouble. But after spending the last six years in the company of Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, lying was starting to come second nature to her. There had been countless times when she'd been forced into lying in order to save them from something or other. It wasn't that big of a deal to her anymore.

"You want to lie to my parents?"

"We don't have any choice." She tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ears. "Actually we don't have to lie to them yet. We'll just tell them that we're going to Godric's Hollow. You know, because Harry wants to see where his parents are buried." She glanced quickly at Harry to see if she had caused a reaction in him, but he seemed unfazed. "And then after that, well... we'll think of something," she finished lamely.

"Sounds like a brilliant plan." Ron closed his eyes, obviously quite unenthused.

"Well, we don't really have any other options." She refused to pick a fight with him, even if he was being absolutely annoying. She wasn't going to fight with him anymore over stupid stuff. She was done with all of that.

"Don't have any option other than what?" Ginny waltzed back into the room in her pajamas. She looked infinitely more comfortable than she had in her bridesmaid's dress, though her hair was still done up tightly in all its little knots.

Hermione glanced over at the boys again, unsure of how to answer that, since technically they weren't supposed to let Ginny in on the secret of the horcruxes, either. She was surprised when Ron answered bluntly.

"About how to tell Mum and Dad I'm not going back to Hogwarts."

Ginny stared at him. "You're not going back?" When he shook his head, she then turned her gaze to Hermione and finally to Harry, who quickly avoided her eyes and looked back into the fire. "What do you mean you're not going back? You _have _to go back."

"I'm going with Harry."

Ginny stared at her brother, obviously unable to comprehend what he'd just said. She shook her head quickly. "No. You have to go back. You all have to go back." She looked once again at Harry, but he still didn't meet her eyes.

"Ginny, look," Hermione said slowly but firmly, "there's things we have to do."

"They can wait," she said insistently. She was still staring at Harry. "When you said, you had to do things... I thought you meant when school was over. You can't go now."

"They can't wait," Ron interrupted. "You know that there are things much more important than school right now."

Ginny looked defeated. She knew he was telling the truth, but it was clear that she didn't want to give up that easily. Instead, she pulled herself up to her full height and firmly said, "Then I'm not going back, either."

"You have to," Ron said, apparently not giving much weight to her insistence. "Mum and Dad'll make you."

"They can't make me," she said, still firmly. "Where are you going? I'm going, too."

"No, you're not!" Harry and Ron spoke at the same time. They were the first words Harry had said since Ginny reentered the room. He was staring at her, and she fixed a hard sort of glare on him for several seconds before turning it to Ron and speaking to them both.

"You can't stop me."

"Yes, we can," Ron said flatly. "You're _not _going."

"How do you plan on stopping me?" she asked smartly.

"We won't tell you where we're going or when we're leaving." It was Harry who said it, and the room silenced for several moments. Ginny looked taken aback, almost hurt. She and Harry were sharing a very intense look, and Hermione was afraid Ginny might burst into tears. She didn't, though. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned her back on them, walking out of the room silently.

Hermione watched her go and then snapped her head around towards her friends. "Why do you have to be like that to her!" she demanded sharply.

"She's not going," Ron said, looking as though he couldn't have cared less that his sister had just been on the verge of tears.

"And why not?" Hermione stared at him, and then she did the same to Harry.

Ron answered her. "She's too young."

"Are you kidding me!" Hermione actually laughed and shook her head. "You just don't want her to go because she's a girl."

"That's not true. I'm letting you go, aren't I?"

"_Letting _me?" Hermione asked incredulously. She couldn't believe her ears, and she turned her eyes to Harry to see if he found Ron's claim as appalling as she had. To her surprise, though, he was looking at her much the same way Ron was. As though he, too, were _letting _her accompany them. "You two are so full of..." she cut herself off before she allowed herself to finish the sentence. She wasn't going to resort to obscenities. "You know what?" she asked instead. "Don't do me any favors. Thank you both oh so very much for _allowing _me the opportunity to go with you, but I'm sure I don't want to trouble either of you _men_ anymore than necessary. So, please, be my guest and go on without me. I don't want to intrude where I'm not wanted."

And with that, she, too, got up and marched wordlessly from the room.

She was fuming as she climbed the stairs to Ginny's room. She was so angry, and not only that, but she wanted to cry as well. She hated when she felt like this. It made her feel weak and not in control, and she hated both of them for making her feel this way. Who the hell did they think they were anyway? _Letting _her go...

When she got upstairs, she found Ginny at her vanity, tugging frantically at her hair, trying everything to get it out of the knots. She still looked close to tears, but Hermione wasn't sure whether this had more to do with the fact that the boys were treating her that way or whether it was mostly due to the fact that she was practically yanking her hair out.

"Ginny-"

"Do not defend them, Hermione," Ginny snapped fiercely. "They're both prats."

"I wasn't going to defend them. They _are _prats."

Ginny stared at her, opened her mouth, and then shut it. "Oh." After a second, she said, "What happened?"

Hermione shrugged, her lips set in a thin line. She was angry, and even more than that, she was hurt. But she didn't want to let it show. "Oh, you know, the usual. I told them that the only reason they didn't want you to go was because you were a girl, and of course they denied that and informed me that they were letting me go, weren't they?"

"They were _letting _you go?" Ginny asked, her mouth dropping slightly.

"Yes, letting me. I should be ever so thankful."

"Oh, yes," Ginny said sarcastically. "Definitely."

"After all," Hermione went on casually, "it's not as if I've ever helped them in any way whatsoever."

"Nor have I," Ginny said, rolling her eyes. "Stupid prats."

"Come here and let me have another go at your hair." Hermione sat down on the extra bed and waited for Ginny to join her. She was still so angry she could barely concentrate. "They probably wouldn't have passed even first year if it weren't for me."

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Breakfast the next morning was an irritable affair.

Hermione and Ginny sat together, talking amongst themselves and pointedly ignoring Ron and Harry. Mr. Weasley had left for work before any of them had awaken, but Mrs. Weasley noticed the tension and called it out almost immediately.

"Okay, _what _is the matter?"

She looked from the girls to the boys and back again. Hermione and Ginny said nothing, choosing instead to simply glare at their male counterparts. Ron thought that they were being extremely dramatic and said so.

"They're making a big deal out of nothing and are currently pouting over it." He took a bite of his toast and pretended not to see the Look of Death that Ginny shot him or the way that Hermione's eyes narrowed with such concentration that he was nearly positive she was trying to hex him without the use of a wand. He pretended not to see, but that didn't mean he wasn't scared all the same. He was quite sure that if someone could send a wandless hex on him that it would be Hermione.

"_Actually," _Ginny cut in, "we aren't pouting over anything. Ron and Harry, you see, have very important business to attend to, and we simply don't want to intrude. You know, stick our noses into the matters that are better left to the men."

"Yes, we certainly wouldn't want to do that," Hermione finished with a significantly _Hermione-ish _look of superiority.

"What business?" his mother asked suspiciously. Ron glanced at Harry and saw that he was suddenly quite interested in his eggs. He looked back to his mother and shook his head.

"Nothing. They're just being sensitive."

"Well, we _are _just silly little girls, you know?" Hermione sat up a little straighter. "We can't control our emotions."

"What is going on?" Ron instantly recognized his mother's end-of-rope voice. It held a sense of finality that he was sure Harry and Hermione couldn't quite understand. It was the _"This is the last time I'm asking" _voice, the voice that demanded attention and reaction.

However, though Harry and Hermione might not have understood it, Ginny certainly did.

"They say they're not going back to Hogwarts."

It was simple and straight to the point. Ginny always had a way with that. Ron wanted to kill her.

His mother didn't react straight away. She was silent for what seemed like an eternity, and then she finally took a deep breath before turning straight to Ron. "You most certainly _are _going back to Hogwarts." Picking up a bit of volume in her voice, she turned then to Harry. "And so are you." When she got to the girls, she was clearly struggling not to yell. "And so are the both of you. This is not up for discussion. I don't care how old any of you are or how much any of you _think _you know. You are going back to school, and that's final."

"But Mum, we're ad-"

"You are not adults!" she snapped, rounding on Ron. "You're simply children who have reached legal age. That has nothing to do with being an adult! You are going back to Hogwarts, all of you, and I don't want to hear another word about it. Anyone who does differently," she drew in another breath, "will no longer be welcome in this house. I'll throw every last one of you out on the streets!"

There was silence again, as she had just stormed from the room angrily, leaving the teenagers to stare at each other in shock. Ron had seen his mother serious about things before, but this was different. She'd never threatened to kick anyone out before. Well, she'd threatened the twins a couple of times, but no one had ever taken her even remotely seriously. But this _was _serious. She'd been speaking to all of them equally, showing absolute indifference to the fact that half of them were her children and half of them were not. She'd given them all the same orders and laid out all the same consequences for disobeying.

"Thanks a _lot, _Ginny," Ron hissed bitterly as he glared across the table at his only sister.

Ginny, though, looked just as shocked as he felt. "I figured she'd be a bit miffed... I didn't expect her to start threatening to chuck us out."

"Well, you can thank yourself for that one."

Ginny glared back. "Oh, come off it. I'm not the one who decided not to go back to school. That was you lot."

"Yeah, and it was none of your business." Once again, the whole table seemed surprised that Harry had actually spoken, much less been that frank. Ron's initial instinct was to tell Harry off for being rude to _his_ sister, but he figured that after the past year, Ginny was as much Harry's business as she was his own. Maybe even more.

Ginny didn't say anything for a long moment, but she was very careful not to break eye contact with Harry for even a moment. She was looking at him with the strangest sort of look, as though she didn't know whether to hex him or burst into tears. After what seemed like an eternity, she took to glaring at him.

"I don't know who the hell you think you are, Harry," she said in a voice that was way too calm, "but you can just get off your high horse right now because I'm not dealing with this."

And with that, she was gone. Ron heard the stairs creak as she obviously sprinted into a run up them. Harry looked properly ashamed and once again took to studying his eggs. Hermione, though, clearly wasn't letting him off that easily.

"That was lovely, Harry." The sarcasm couldn't have been any clearer. "I hope you know she's upstairs probably crying her eyes out right now. Is that what you wanted?"

Harry said nothing.

"Was it even remotely necessary to be that awful to her?"

Again, there was no reply.

"That must make you feel like a big man, huh? Making a girl cry and being too much of a jerk to even acknowledge it?"

Ron was about to cut in and tell Hermione to lay off, but Harry finally looked up and spoke.

"I didn't want to make her cry."

"Well, seeing as how you've accomplished quite the opposite, perhaps you ought to work on your aim a bit."

"I didn't want to make her cry," he said again, a little more pointedly, "but I don't want her involved, either."

"And why not? _What _is the big deal? She's more than competent enough, and you know it."

Harry looked uncomfortable and squirmed a little in his chair before mumbling, "You don't understand."

But Hermione, it seemed, understood perfectly fine. "You're trying to be all noble, trying to protect her. I get it, Harry. You think she's in danger, and you don't want that. Yes, that's clear. But do you have to be such a prat about it?"

"I don't want her to get hurt." Harry was barely being audible. "If she knows too much, she'll get hurt."

"She could get hurt for any reason," Hermione said, clearly exasperated. "We all could. Don't you see that? You could wake up, and she could be dead tomorrow morning. Her knowing, her _helping, _it's not going to make the threat any worse or any better. Everyone we know is already in danger."

Ron didn't particularly like to think of the possibility that he could wake up in the morning and find his sister dead. Obviously Harry didn't, either, because he'd gone from looking properly shamed to looking dead angry in a flat second.

"Don't talk to me about threats, Hermione," he snapped. "Don't talk to me about people being in danger. How would you like it if you'd seen three people snuff it in three years? Trust me, I know all about the damn _dangers._"

A year ago, Hermione would have immediately backed down. She would have let Harry have his little rant, and she would probably have even apologized. But it seemed, though, that the time for all of that had passed. "Don't you dare act like you're the only one affected by all of that. Yes, Harry, we all know everything you've been through, and no one is making light of any of it. But don't you dare sit there and act like you're the only one who has been impacted."

"Okay, stop," Ron said quickly, finding himself in the rare position of referee between Harry and Hermione. They rarely fought at all, and on the few occasions that they had, Ron had almost immediately sided with Harry, almost out of instinct. Now, though, he couldn't find enough reason to side with either of them. They both looked at him when he spoke up, and he shook his head slowly. "Just stop, okay?"

Hermione had tears in her eyes. They'd sprung up out of nowhere, and Ron wondered momentarily if this was the first time _Harry _had ever caused her to cry. Harry was clearly still angry, glaring at Hermione like he wanted to say something really horrible. Ron figured that no good would come out of any of this and rightly reasoned that the only thing to do would be to break up the fight before it really got started.

"Hermione, let's go for a walk." He said it without thinking. He wanted to separate the two of them before they both said things they didn't really mean. He knew how easy it was to get sucked into that trap, especially where Hermione was concerned. She was clearly upset, and she obviously had a greater need at the moment than Harry did, as he had purposely averted his eyes back to the table. Ron figured this was the best solution. Get Hermione out of there and let Harry cool off for a bit. He just hoped Harry wouldn't think he was choosing sides.

Because he wasn't. At least he didn't think he was...

He expected Hermione to argue with him for at least a few seconds before agreeing to his walk, but to his surprise, she got up quickly and walked ahead of him. He glanced at Harry and raised his eyebrows slightly, hoping to convey some sort of secret message with him. Harry seemed to get it and shrugged uninterestedly as Ron hurried to catch up with Hermione, who was already out the door and in the backyard.

"I'm mad at you, too," she said flatly when he caught her a few seconds later. She didn't look at him, just kept walking and speaking pointedly. "You need to ease up on Ginny, and I haven't forgiven you for what you said to me last night, either."

There had been times when Ron had wished that Hermione would just tell him what she was really thinking, what she was really feeling. Guessing with her hadn't turned out to be an easy task for him, as he'd learned several times over in the past few years. However, now that she was adhering to his wishes and being very straightforward with him, he almost wished she'd keep him guessing.

"I'm sorry." It was quick and pointed. He figured that was the best option- counter straightforwardness with straightforwardness. It didn't even bother him to apologize, which was surprising all in itself. If anything, it made him feel actually mature.

Hermione's resolve seemed to soften slightly with his apology, but she didn't seem ready to completely give it up. Still without looking, she asked, "What are you sorry for?"

Ron hated that question. His mother used to use it on him all the time when he was younger and apologized simply to get himself out of trouble. "For even giving you the idea that I think you're not capable. Because that's not true. And that's not what I meant, either."

She turned her head. "You don't have the right to _allow _me to do anything. You know that, right?"

He nodded, thankful that she'd stopped walking so fast. "I know. And that's not what I meant. It just... came out wrong."

"You should be nicer to Ginny. She's not stupid."

"I know she's not. It's just... she's my little sister." He didn't know how to explain his way out of that one. He had basically flat-out forbid Ginny to go with them, despite the fact that he knew it wasn't even the slightest bit his place to do so.

"She's not little anymore." Hermione kept right on walking, heading straight for the woods at the end of the yard. Ron followed her.

"I know. But she's still too young."

"You treat her exactly the way Fred and George treat you, you know that?" She'd stopped and turned to face him expectantly. The accusation stopped Ron dead in his tracks. That thought had never crossed his mind, and frankly, he refused to believe it.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. You treat her like she's a baby. Like she's not capable of doing anything. Like she's stupid or something."

Ron had never considered this. He hoped it wasn't true. "I... I don't mean to do that," he said quietly, glancing away from her deadlocked eye-contact. "It's just... she's my sister. You know?"

"And she's not a baby," Hermione reiterated, though this time her tone was much softer. "You really need to realize that. She's sixteen years old."

It was hard to believe that Ginny was sixteen. It was even harder for him to believe that he was _seventeen. _It suddenly hit him that were they to return to school in the fall, they'd be in their last year. Of course, he'd known this before, but he hadn't really allowed it to register. Everything was so different. Nothing was the same as it used to be, and he realized all of this fully for the first time.

Hermione snapped him out of his reverie with a question that puzzled him just slightly. "Why is Harry being so horrible to Ginny?"

Ron didn't know honestly. He really didn't even know the full reasoning behind their breakup, though he'd gathered enough to know that it wasn't on bad terms or anything like that. But from the way things were looking... it could very well turn that way.

"Harry's just..." Ron didn't really know what he wanted to say, "... he's just moody."

"That's no excuse. Ginny doesn't deserve that." She hesitated for a second before pulling herself to her full height. "And neither do I."

She started walking again, and he hurried to catch up. Before long, they were entering the woods that he'd spent a good portion of his childhood exploring and playing in. It had actually been awhile, though, since he'd ventured into them. They didn't hold as much excitement as they once had.

It was a little dark, and the thick of trees around them made it very difficult to navigate their way. Still, though, he knew this area like the back of his hand, and he was quite sure that he could find his way around in his sleep. Hermione was in the lead, and he followed her, positive that she had no idea where she was going.

"Ron, be honest with me."

Her words startled him slightly. He couldn't fathom what she was going to force him into truthfulness over, and honestly, he was a bit frightened by the possibilities. "Um, okay?"

She stopped between two large oak trees and sat down on upraised root. She squinted up at him in the odd light that was entering the woods between treetops. "Are you actually sorry for saying you were _letting _me go with you, or do you honestly think that way? Tell the truth."

"Hermione, are you crazy?" He rolled his eyes and dropped down to the ground in front of her. The root she was occupying was only large enough for one person, so he settled into the dirt. "You know I don't think that. And neither does Harry."

"Well, sometimes it seems like you do," she defended quickly, her voice heightening slightly. "Sometimes it seems like you think I can't take care of myself or something."

"Like when?"

"Like every time somebody calls me a Mudblood. You act like you have to take care of it, like I'm not capable or something."

She puzzled him greatly. He wasn't quite sure he'd ever understand girls well enough to be able to have legitimate conversations with them. "That's not because I think you're not capable." He tugged at a cluster of stray weeds.

"Then what it is?"

He wanted very much to take a nap. Actually, he wanted very much to be doing anything other than having this conversation. "I just... I don't like people to pick on my friends." He figured it was the safest explanation. Just for measure, though, he added, "D'you know how many times I've had to threaten to hex the Slytherins for Neville?"

The look on Hermione's face told him that he somehow still hadn't managed to say the right thing. She frowned and sighed a little. "Well, on behalf of Neville and myself, thanks plenty," she muttered.

"Hermione?"

She looked at him and raised her eyebrows just slightly.

He didn't finish his statement right away. He took a second and looked down at the ground where her hand was busy plucking away at the same cluster of weeds he'd just discovered. Without thinking, he took that hand in his own. She didn't pull it away. "Things are different now," he finished softly, never lifting his eyes.

He heard another little sigh, and then she quietly agreed with him. "Yeah. They are."

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Harry climbed the stairs slowly. He felt bad enough about being such a jerk to Ginny, but after a few minutes of private reflection, he'd also felt bad about snapping at Hermione. She was right. He wasn't the only one affected by those deaths, and he certainly wasn't the only one being affected now. He was going to apologize to her, but when he'd looked into the backyard, he hadn't seen either Ron or Hermione; he figured instead that he would wait until they came back to the house and speak to her then. However, there was nothing to stop him from talking to Ginny, and he figured he might as well get that over with. The last thing he needed was the fact that he'd made her cry grating on his conscience.

Ginny's room was on the third floor, and it seemed to take him forever to reach it. The door was closed, and he stopped to listen for a second, waiting to see if he could hear anything from the other side of the door. There was nothing, though, so he raised his fist to the wood and gently rapped.

"Who is it?" Her voice was muffled, and he hesitated.

"It's me."

The answer came swiftly. "Go away."

He'd figured as much, so without asking, he turned the knob on her door and opened it. She was lying on her bed, face-up, staring at the doorway. She sat up when he walked in. "I said go away," she said sharply. "Now get out."

"Ginny," he said her name and realized he didn't have much of a follow-up. Thinking quickly, he tried to cover. "Ginny, I need to talk to you."

"No, you don't. Whatever reason could you _possibly _have to talk to _me? _A simple, incapable, little girl?"

She was so much like her brother sometimes that it was scary. The blazing sarcasm and snide remarks must have been a Weasley trait, so he reasoned that at least she got it honestly.

"Ginny-"

"That's right, you know my name. Maybe you noticed it on the door," she swung a hand in the direction of said door, which was clearly emblazoned with the words _Ginny's Room. _"Maybe you also noticed that this is _my _room. And seeing as how you're not me and also seeing as how you're not here on my invitation, perhaps you'd better go."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't waste my time, Harry," she said snidely, her eyes narrowing instantly.

"Will you please just listen to me?"

"No! I don't want to listen to you, and I don't want to look at you, and I don't even want to be in the same room with you. So kindly _leave!"_

He ignored her. "I didn't mean to come off as such a bastard. I just want you to understand that. I'm not trying to be mean."

"Oh, well, great job."

He sighed a little, frustrated. "Ginny, I'm sorry I was a prat. I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to."

"Again, great job."

"I just don't think you understand."

This was apparently quite the wrong thing to say. Ginny stared at him in what seemed to be total disbelief for several seconds before finally shaking her head in disgust. "You don't think I understand? I was pretty sure we'd come to quite a clear understanding over the past few months, you and I. I was under the impression that we had bonded just slightly, that you, oh, I don't know, trusted me or something. I guess I was wrong, though, wasn't I? Stupid of me really. I should have realized that there was a difference between trust and pure meaningless _groping."_

He couldn't believe she'd just said that. Surely she wasn't being serious. She couldn't possibly think that.

"You're not serious?"

She stared at him, almost like she was pitying him. "Well, what would _you _think?"

"Ginny, that was anything but meaningless." He knew that he sounded a bit too defensive, but he couldn't help it. She was being absolutely unreasonable. "And you know it."

"I don't know anything apparently," she countered straight away.

"I wasn't _using _you."

Ginny rolled her eyes just a little and looked at him again. "Yeah, well, I will admit that it was a little confusing. After all, you could use any girl in the entire school, and you chose _me. _That was a bit confusing, yeah. But I reckon I was the most convenient, huh? What with Hermione being distracted and all."

He didn't know whether to cringe, laugh, or defend himself at that accusation. In the end, he chose to ignore it. It wasn't like he'd never gotten that before, and besides that, Ginny knew for a fact that there wasn't even an ounce of truth to it.

"I'm not even going to respond to that."

"Then get the hell out of my room!" She shrieked that bit just a little, and both she and Harry glanced towards the hallway to make sure no one, namely her mother, heard this and was going to come running up the stairs to bless them both out. When he was satisfied that she wasn't, he turned back to Ginny and ignored the fact that she'd just ordered him from her room.

"Look. I can't stand this. I can't stand _being _here. It's driving me mad."

"Well, sorry about that," she replied scathingly. "I know it's not much, certainly not up to par for anything worthy of the _Chosen One, _but it's all we've got, so we make do. It's enough for us common folk."

He actually had to close his eyes to keep his head on straight at this. She was absolutely maddening in more ways than one. "Could you not be sarcastic for even a minute? Please?"

He opened his eyes to see her with her arms crossed tightly over her chest, but she said nothing. Merely continued to glare.

"Ginny," he went on, not really caring that he was making an absolute prat of himself, "do you have any idea how hard it is to be around you?"

Obviously he'd said the wrong thing because the minute she'd wordlessly agreed to be sarcasm free was over within seconds. "Sorry I'm such a difficult person to be around. I'll work on that, okay? I'm sure I could probably find a book or something on how proper young ladies are supposed to act."

"_Ginny!" _he half-yelled/half-hissed. She jumped slightly, and he took advantage of the momentary shock he'd given her and spoke very quickly. "Every single day, all I do is... I just think about you, okay? And I can't stop it, and it's driving me crazy. And every time I see you, I don't know whether to ignore you or try to pretend like nothing's going on. Then if I _do _try to pretend to like there's nothing there, I end up turning into a complete arse. Obviously you know that. But Ginny, I'm sorry. Okay? I am, and I want you to know that. And if you want to hate me and never speak to me again, well, then that's probably the best help my sanity could get right now."

He said all of this in one breath, and when he was finished he looked away fast, not willing to see her face when she processed everything he'd just said. Several moments of silence went by, and Harry was just about to give up and do what she'd wanted since he first came upstairs and leave. Just as he turned to leave, though, she stopped him.

"Oh, you are so indefinitely annoying."

He turned his head and saw that she was standing with one foot on the floor and her knee still on the bed. She was looking at him with an almost amused sort of expression. He honestly thought she was the most beautiful girl he would ever see, and, not for the first time, he wondered _why_ he'd had to take so long to realize this.

"You don't have to be so mean to me, you know that?"

He really did feel horrible for acting the way he had. His mouth felt all dry, so he just nodded and mumbled a quiet, "I'm sorry."

"Harry," she was quieter now, "come here." He did as she said and took the few steps to where she was standing, still with one foot on the floor and one knee on her bed. Without speaking, she reached up with one hand and brushed a bit of hair from his forehead, and then, still silently, she kissed him.

Several weeks had passed since the last time they'd kissed, and he wondered if it possibly felt even better now than it had then. He'd been running on memories for so long that it was hard to tell. All he knew was that he'd been right in remembering that there was nothing else like this in the world. He would have given anything if they could have just stayed in that moment forever, but he knew it wasn't possible. And so he forced himself to break the kiss.

"Sorry," she mumbled, studying the floor intently.

Harry sat down on her bed. His head was spinning, and he wasn't sure that he would be able to stand a second longer without literally falling over. He was just so _tired. _After a few seconds, Ginny sat down, too, and they sat side by side for awhile until she spoke again.

"Are you really not coming back to school?"

He shrugged, still not trusting himself to look at her fully. He could see that she, too, was watching the air in front of them rather than addressing him with her eyes as well as her words. "I don't know what to do."

"Can't you wait just one more year to save the world?"

He smiled a little and looked at her from the corner of his eye. She was doing the same, and she flashed a small grin. He finally looked at her properly. "I don't think that's really an option."

The smiles faded again, and the air around them turned serious. "So that's a no, you're not coming back?"

"It has to end." He didn't need to expand on that because he knew she understood. He watched her acceptance of this.

"I want to help."

"Ginny, no. I don't... I don't want you to."

She frowned, almost glowered at him. "I'm not stupid," she said firmly.

"I know you're not!" He didn't know how to make her see that it wasn't about that. "But I don't want you to get hurt. And you will. I know you will."

"Right, because I'm not capable of taking care of myself."

"That's not it. I just... You'll get hurt." He swallowed the knot in his throat. "And I can't take that chance."

"But you're perfectly fine with Ron and Hermione going with you, huh?"

"That's different."

She gave a little sniff. "Why? I guess because they're, oh, _so _much older than me, right?"

"That's not it." He didn't even really know how to explain it. "It's different. I mean..." he bit down hard on his lower lip for a second. "It started with the three of us, and I just know that's how it has to end. With the three of us."

Ginny looked like she wanted to cry, but she didn't. She didn't argue this, either, and it seemed like she accepted it as a plausible enough explanation. Her eyes softened, and she looked at him sadly.

"That is," he went on, not allowing himself to get distracted by the brand new knot that had launched itself into his throat, "if Hermione's still speaking to me."

"I'm sure you don't have to worry about that," Ginny replied lazily. "If she's gone six years and still speaks to my brother, I'm pretty sure you have nothing to worry about."

Harry wasn't quite as confident in Hermione's forgiveness skills, as he knew all too well that regardless of the fact that she was still speaking to Ron, she'd spent just as much time during those six years _not _speaking to him. He didn't say any of this, though, just nodded a little and looked back to the floor.

And he wondered if things were ever going to get any easier.

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A/N: So, that was long. I'm sort of new to this thing, so please let me know if it was too long or if it totally sucked or whatever. Criticism. I can take it. Please let me know what you thought, and thanks for reading. More soon!


	2. The Understanding

The next week passed quickly. Harry's birthday came and went with relatively little excitement. He was a bit disappointed to realize that coming of age made him feel no different than he had before, and Ron had joked that he'd felt something quite strongly on his own seventeenth birthday, almost as if he'd been _poisoned. _As he was now officially an adult, though, Harry was freed forever from the Dursleys. He'd managed to get away with spending only a single night with them the entire summer, and they certainly hadn't complained about the length of the visit. Uncle Vernon had told him never to come back again for any reason, and Dudley had said much the same, though he moreover sort of mumbled it and tried to squeeze himself into a corner, clearly quite terrified of Ron and Hermione, who had come to accompany him back. Aunt Petunia, however, had done something Harry could never remember her doing before in his entire life. When Uncle Vernon wasn't looking, she had hugged Harry quickly but tightly and told him to be careful.

He'd spent the rest of the time since then at the Burrow. Things had calmed down there since the mini battle of the sexes that had ensued after Bill and Fleur's wedding. All four of the teenagers seemed to be going out of their way to be polite to each other; even Ron and Ginny were being overly-considerate of each other. Mrs. Weasley didn't threaten them with the streets anymore, either, though she did mention their upcoming school year quite often. They never dared to contradict her. All that so-called Gryffindor bravery under one roof wasn't enough to oppose Molly Weasley. Even on a good day.

Actually, Harry, Ron, and Hermione spent quite a bit of time discussing their options for the upcoming fall. A month ago, they'd been dead set in their mission to find the rest of the horcruxes and destroy Voldemort, but now they were beginning to rethink everything. Ron started it with a very honest and serious and un-Ronlike confession that he really didn't want to upset his mother anymore than she already was. He admitted that he was scared she was going to crack up soon as it was, and he said he didn't want to add to her worrying if he could avoid it. Hermione had then joined the confessional and admitted that she couldn't honestly imagine _not _graduating, especially since she'd been offered the position of Head Girl. _"We've all worked so hard!" _she'd exclaimed during her short rant. _"It just doesn't seem right to let it all go to waste..." _Harry, while he'd been mildly surprised by Ron's reasoning, wasn't at all shocked by Hermione's. Truthfully, he'd been worlds' more shocked when she had agreed to skip the school year in the first place.

Harry didn't honestly know what he wanted to do. He knew that he couldn't ever be happy until he'd finally faced off with Voldemort and put an end to all of this, but he also wasn't really sure how he expected to just track down the bastard, either. It wasn't as if he could call Muggle information and ask for a telephone number and address of Tom Riddle, who might be listed under You-Know-Who, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, The Dark Lord, or Lord Voldemort. The truth was that he didn't really have a clue as to what to do next. He had no plans, no real leads; he was left only with the hints Dumbledore had given him, but he wasn't sure how to even begin. He needed time, and he knew it. He needed resources and research material; he needed adults, _real _adults, to try and help him out where Dumbledore had left off; he needed to learn the last bits of magic he was expected to know in order to make it as a fully-qualified wizard. He needed all of that, and he knew that there was only one place to get it.

Hogwarts.

Of course, he couldn't even begin to imagine what Hogwarts would be like without Dumbledore. Yes, he respected Professor McGonagall and honestly thought that she was probably one of the most brilliant people he would ever meet, but she wasn't Albus Dumbledore. _No one _was Albus Dumbledore. Beyond even that, though, he couldn't imagine what the rest of the school would be like, either. Were there even any parents who were willing to let their children return to a school in which the Headmaster had been killed by one of the senior most teachers just months before? Who was going to be Gryffindor's new Head? He didn't even want to think about what horrible addition would be made to the staff to fill Snape's place... It just wasn't going to be the same.

But, he supposed, nothing would likely ever be the same ever again.

One evening, not quite a week after his birthday, Harry sat in the backyard of the Burrow with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. It was easy like this, with the four of them, and he was glad that they were all managing to get along so well. It made him feel strangely peaceful, or at least that's the word he would have used had he been a twelve year old girl. No, it made him feel _comfortable, _comfortable and _normal. _

They were all gathered by the side of the pond, which looked extremely murky and not at all inviting as it often did on hot summer afternoons. Hermione and Ginny sat a few feet away from him, playing some silly pat-a-cake sort of hand game as though they were seven year old schoolgirls on the playground. Ginny said something he couldn't quite hear, and Hermione giggled. It was a strange sight, Hermione giggling; she didn't do it very often, and she always seemed very unlike herself whenever she did. Ginny, though, could make her giggle. But then again, Harry was quite sure that Ginny could make _him _giggle if she really tried.

He was beginning to drive himself mad over Ginny Weasley, and he knew it. He should have realized that staying at her house right after he broke up with her was not going to be an easy task, but he honestly hadn't ever expected it to be _this _difficult. He couldn't seem to keep his eyes off of her.

He watched the clapping game, more specifically, he watched Ginny. Her hair was getting longer, and he wondered how it could grow so fast. In just the past two months, it had gone from just past her shoulders to halfway down her back. The summer sun had streaked it with natural highlights that hadn't been there before, maybe a shade or two lighter than her normal color. He had the sudden urge to smell that hair, to reacquaint himself with her scent. He wanted to reacquaint himself with _everything _having to do with her.

He was drawn immediately out of the impending daydream when Ron dropped to the ground beside him. Their heads lay at an angle toward each other. He, too, was watching whatever sort of pat-a-cake game it was that girls in their late teens played. "What're they doing?"

Harry took one last look at the girls and then turned his head to stare up at the sky, giving a very simplistic answer. "Giggling."

Ron seemed to take this answer without further question. He sighed, as though he were out of breath or something. Harry realized he hadn't seen him in a little while and wondered where he'd been. He was going to ask him, but Ron cut him off. "D'you think you've got Apparating down?"

Harry had nearly forgotten that the Apparition test was coming up in less than a week. He hadn't thought about it in ages, and he said as much. "I probably don't even remember how to do it."

"I can't fail twice," Ron muttered. "The twins already gave me hell over failing the first time."

"You almost passed," Harry said, trying to be helpful, trying not to look back over to where he could hear Hermione and Ginny in another fit of giggles.

"Failed by a hair. Literally."

Harry smiled. "It'll be fine. I'm sure you'll pass this time. I'll probably end up in New Zealand or something."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, right. And anyway, they'd pass you even if you left half your body behind."

Harry sort of hated the fact that he knew Ron was right.

"You know," he said, staring up at the sky and noticing that it looked like it might rain, "I really haven't even thought about that test at all."

"Well, there's other things to have your mind on," Ron said pointedly. "Obviously."

Harry assumed that Ron was referring to Voldemort and didn't correct him. There was no need to tell him that he was actually speaking more of Ginny. Ron just didn't need to know some things.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Still haven't figured school out."

He saw Ron nod, or at least attempt a nod while lying on his back. "We've got a little while."

"I do want to go to Godric's Hollow, though. You know, just to see if it helps or anything."

He could see Ron's head turn toward him from the corner of his eye. "D'you think it will?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. I just have this feeling, like there's something really important there. Or something."

The truth was that he _did _have a feeling like that. But the biggest reason for wanting to go was the fact that his parents were buried there. He'd never put much thought into where they were buried until a couple of years ago. He didn't know what he expected to find out or what he expected to happen, but a part of him just knew that he needed to go up there. Just to see. He didn't say any of this out loud, though. It wasn't like he thought that Ron would make fun of him or something, he knew he wouldn't. It was more the fact that he just really didn't like even thinking about it, much less talking about it.

"Well," Ron said, drawing him out of his thoughts, "hopefully we'll pass this test shit, and then we can just Apparate there."

"Yeah, hopefully."

They were interrupted when Ginny appeared and settled herself right between them. She flopped down sideways, resting her head on Harry's stomach and draping her legs over Ron's. Ron half-attempted to kick her legs away, but he gave up a second later.

"Guess what," Ginny said excitedly.

"You've just found out you're adopted and you're leaving to find your real family?" Ron asked hopefully.

Ginny shook her head.

"Give," Ron said lazily.

She looked at Harry and he just raised his eyebrows questioningly. Satisfied that no one else was guessing, she gave away her secret.

In the form of a very loud, very _long _belch.

When she was done, she erupted into yet another fit of giggles, obviously quite amused at herself. Harry figured that this must be what happened when one girl was raised in a houseful of older brothers.

Ron rolled his eyes and leaned up on his elbows. "Where's Hermione?"

"She went inside. She was hot." Ginny currently had her hand held over her face, picking at her fingernails.

Ron gave Ginny's legs a shove and succeeded in moving them off of him. "I think I'll go in, too," he said casually. "It _is _pretty hot."

Harry resisted the urge to snicker when Ginny rolled her eyes so far back in her head that it seemed as though they would disappear. Ron either didn't see her or chose to ignore her, and he stood up and headed back towards the house.

Then it was just Harry and Ginny. Her head was still resting on his stomach, and he was suddenly much more aware of her presence than he had been when her brother was lying within inches.

"Did they make out yet?" Ginny asked, going back to examining her fingernails.

"No." Harry paused. "I mean, I don't guess. Why? Did you hear something?"

"Who would I hear it from?"

Harry thought that was obvious. "Uh, Hermione?"

Ginny once again rolled her eyes, dropped her hands, and yawned. When she was finished, she turned her head slightly and looked at him. "I highly doubt Hermione would tell me if they _did."_

Harry didn't understand why. "But I thought... She told you about Krum, didn't she?" He thought back to that night when Ginny had blurted out Hermione's business to Ron. "Or did that even happen?" He suddenly wasn't so sure.

"Of course it happened," she said shortly. "And yes, she told me."

"Then why would she not tell you now? What changed?"

Ginny looked at him, almost pityingly. She sat up, shaking her head in what seemed to be disbelief. "The _change," _she said, shifting around so that she was now lying right beside him, "is that Viktor Krum is a famous Quidditch player. Of _course _she told me about that." She rolled over so that she was on her side, facing him. Without thinking twice, he moved his arm so that she could settle in _right _beside him, and she continued. "This time? It's _Ron. _I don't think she's going to start bragging to me about snogging my _brother, _do you?"

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. "I thought girls told each other everything."

Ginny smiled, though she still had that sort of pitying look on her face, as though she couldn't quite believe he was that clueless. "We don't," she said simply. "Not _everything. _Especially not when it has to do with brothers and the such."

"Then I guess we probably won't find out, huh?" He wasn't too sure that he was upset by this prospect. He still didn't know how he felt about the idea of Ron and Hermione going out or doing whatever it was that they were obviously well on the way to doing. It wasn't as if he didn't expect it because it was very clearly going to happen. In fact, he wasn't one-hundred percent sure that it hadn't _already _happened, but that didn't mean it was any less odd. He didn't know what exactly he would do when their trio became a twosome plus one. He wasn't necessarily opposed to it, he just wasn't... sure.

"We'll know." Ginny sounded lazy and bored. "Ron'll tell you. He can't keep his mouth closed about anything."

Harry wasn't too sure, though. He had spared Ron all the details when it came to himself and Ginny, and he half-thought that Ron might assume that he had to pay the same courtesy. Not that Hermione was Harry's sister, but she was close enough, and Ron knew it. Truthfully, Ron hadn't even told Harry that much about _Lavender_, and she was nowhere near close to Harry in any way. That wasn't to say that Ron hadn't talked about it in Harry's presence, though. No, he'd been forced to listen to many late-night conversations where Seamus had nagged Ron for details.

Harry started to mention this to Ginny, but when he turned his head to look at her, he saw that her eyes were closed and her breathing was slow and even. She'd fallen asleep that quickly. A minute ago, she hadn't even seemed tired, and now she was asleep. Harry realized how nice it was. She'd fallen asleep once before, curled under his arm like this. It had been about a week before Dumbledore died and their whole world got turned upside down. They were downstairs in the common room, everyone else had already gone to bed, and he was quizzing her for her Charms O.W.L. She'd fallen asleep out of nowhere then, too, actually in the time that it had taken him to ask her a question about shield charms.

It was nice then, and it was nice now.

And Harry, not having the heart to wake, shifted onto his side just a little and was delighted when she instinctively moved even closer in her sleep, wrapping an arm around his waist. He thought that he could very much get used to this.

His mood was immediately dampened, though, when he realized that he couldn't and _wouldn't _ever _allow_ himself to get used to it.

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Ron walked into the house and was glad to find that it was much cooler inside than it was outside. He knew the reason he'd come back inside, though, and it wasn't the heat. He found said reason sitting alone in the den with her head bent over a book.

"It's _summer," _he groaned. "No reading."

Hermione looked up at him and rolled her eyes. "This may come as a surprise to you, but there are people who do not wish to have their brains reduced to mush simply because holiday comes round."

"What're you reading anyway?"

The quick movement she made to block the title increased his curiosity ten-fold. He snatched the book out of her hand and turned it over. _Wondrous Wizard: An Autobiography by Gilderoy Lockhart. _

"Shut. Up," she said tightly before he could even start.

Ron immediately burst into laughter, and Hermione glared at him. "I'm not even-" he wheezed with laughter. "I'm not saying a word."

"Good!" she snapped. "If only I believed that."

"Gilderoy Lockhart! I thought you were over that!"

She stood up and grabbed the book back from him. "I was _bored. _I found it with the rest of your mum's books. It was either this or _Wanderful One-Minute Meals."_

Ron was still having a hard time controlling his laughter. "I thought his autobiography was called _Marvelous Me _or something like that?"

"_Magical Me. _And that was his second autobiography. This is the orig-" She noticed that he was highly amused by her and turned back to glaring. "Oh, shut up."

He smiled, knowing that he could go on for hours teasing her but deciding that it probably wasn't the smartest idea he'd ever have. "Come with me. I've got to make sure Pig's got something to eat."

For a second, it seemed as though she was going to stubbornly refuse, but in the end her boredness must have won out, and she tossed the book to the table and followed him up the stairs. Ron was suddenly aware of the situation. She was coming up to his room. They were going to be in his room alone. _Together. _It was stupid, really, to be nervous. After all, she'd been in his room loads of times. They'd been in his room _alone _together loads of times. But that was... before. Now there was this thing between them. Well, actually there had always been _something _between them, for several years at least, some sort of maddening tension. But now that tension was gone, and it was replaced with something else.

An _understanding._

He didn't know what else to call it because that's really what it was- an understanding. It had been there since his birthday and especially since Lavender had chucked him with a very public dumping, complete with a lot of name-calling and a barely-missed Bat Bogey Hex that, had it been a bit more on aim, would have put even Ginny to shame. There had also been a few choice words thrown in there for Hermione, too, as she had somehow managed to offend and anger Lavender just as much as Ron himself had.

It was after that common room fiasco that the "understanding" had been really cemented. Hermione hadn't asked him if any of Lavender's claims were based in truth. She hadn't asked him to explain why his girlfriend had tried to hex her as well. The only thing she had asked him was how he felt, and he'd shrugged and looked at the floor. There was no need to ask the rest of those questions or any others because they both knew the answers.

They had an understanding.

Since that day, they'd had several... moments. Several moments when they could have done or said a lot more and probably should have. But it was okay because they both knew what was going on. Those moments, though not _overly _frequent, meant more than anything else he'd ever experienced.

Sometimes, when they were alone or positive that no one was looking, their hands would find each other's. He'd never realized how _tiny _her hands were until he'd taken to holding them so often. They would sometimes have very serious moments, during which they'd tell each other quiet secrets or have grave discussions about the going-ons around them; these talks made him feel loads more mature than he ever had before, and he liked that.

And then there was, what he considered to be, the most defining moment to date.

Professor McGonagall had sent him to the hospital wing immediately following the Death Eaters' attack on Hogwarts. He'd gone with the rest of the hall's occupants and was forced to watch as Madam Pomfrey tried, and failed, to fix his oldest brother's injuries. He didn't know where Ginny'd gone off to, and he'd only seen Harry for half-a-second. In fact, he wasn't even sure he'd actually seen him at all. What worried him most, though, was the fact that he hadn't seen or heard from Hermione at all since they'd split up hours before. He was just about to sneak out and go look for her when the doors to the hospital wing flew open, and she appeared with Luna lagging slightly behind her. She stopped, breathless, and looked frantically around the room. A half-second later, her eyesmet his, and she took off at full-speed across the room. She ran right past Bill, right past Neville, right past Tonks and Lupin and all the teachers...

And straight to him.

And without a word, she literally jumped straight into his arms, wrapping her arms so tightly around his neck that he was a little worried about breathing. He didn't care, though. He would have gladly stopped breathing all together because she was _okay. _He'd had the worst feeling, but it didn't matter. Because she was just fine. He hadn't actually been this worried about her since he was in second year and had sat at her bedside, reading chapters to her from their textbooks while Harry was at Quidditch practice or off doing whatever it was that Harry had done in their second year. Madam Pomfrey had told him that she was nearly positive that petrified people couldn't hear or comprehend anything outside of their own minds, if that even, but he hadn't cared; he'd still tried because he figured on the off-chance that Hermione _could _hear, she was most certainly very bored. So he'd figured in his head what the most exciting thing for Hermione must have been and had, consequently, resigned himself to hours spent reading her their homework. But it was worth it because she'd been okay in the end, and she was okay now, too. And maybe it was the thrill of the moment, or maybe it was the relief that she wasn't lying in some downstairs corridor dead. Or maybe it was just the Felix Felicis. Whatever the reasoning, though, he did something he'd never done before.

He kissed her.

It was very quick and over within a second, and he doubted if anyone else in the room could have even caught what had just happened. But he did. And so did Hermione. He was in just as much shock as she was, though, not really believing that he'd finally gotten up the nerve to do it and sort of kicking himself for picking such a stupid time and way to do it. After all, it wasn't a very good kiss; he knew he could do much, much better. But still, he refused to be embarrassed, and he stared her straight in the eye as he slowly lowered her feet back to the floor. For another second or so, they just looked at each other, but then she just retightened her arms around his neck and hugged him again, burying her face into the front of her shirt. He was thankful that she hadn't freaked out, or worse hexed him, and he held her tightly for a few moments, noticing the way she was out of breath from her run and seemed to be holding back sobs, her body shaking every few seconds. He also noticed for the first time the way that his chin rested perfectly on the top of her head, as though they were both the perfect height for each other. It was a strange moment to be noticing all these things for the first time and having this first defining event and surprising her with this first kiss, what with Bill lying mangled in a hospital bed a few feet away, half their teachers standing around, Harry off God only knew where, Ginny inevitably off to find him, and Dumbledore, though they didn't know it at the time, lying dead outside.

But it was also sort of the perfect moment.

Neither of them had mentioned it since. The rest of the time spent at Hogwarts had been clouded with Dumbledore's death and funeral, and by the time they'd met back up at the Burrow, it seemed as though the time to mention it had passed. It didn't matter, he supposed, because they both knew what it meant. It was part of the understanding.

When they reached his room, he kicked the door open, and she caught it with her hand. He was suddenly very aware that his room was a disaster area, and that she was probably disgusted by the mere sight of it. But he managed a quick glance at her and was surprised to see that she really didn't seem fazed by the mess.

"Pig's not even here," she said, looking toward the corner where the owl's cage stood, the door wide open. He hadn't locked it on the off-chance that Pig decided he wanted out randomly, but he hadn't really expected him to actually go anywhere. His bedroom window was also open, though, as he kept it up all the time during the summer, or at least when it wasn't raining. She walked over the window and looked out, as if she expected to see the mad little owl fluttering outside the window. "They'll be back together by the end of the summer..." she muttered, still staring through the open window.

Ron had no idea what she was talking about until he joined her at the window and saw Harry and Ginny on the ground by the pond, several stories below where he'd left them. "You think so?"

Hermione nodded, turning her back to the window and half-leaning/half-sitting on the ledge. "It's so obvious. I don't know why they ever broke up in the first place."

Ron, though, wasn't so sure. He leaned a little bit further out the window to get a better look. They were lying outside together, but that was really all he could make out. "I actually kind of think they won't," he admitted, drawing his head back in and looking at Hermione.

She looked very surprised that he didn't agree with her. "How could they not?" she asked, glancing once more out the window. "They clearly still fancy each other."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean they're going to get back together." He copied her position on the window ledge, though he more leaned than sat, not keen to go flying out the window if his balance happened to leave him for a second. "Just because they fancy each other, that doesn't really mean _anything, _does it?"

"How do you figure? If they like each other, then they like each other."

Ron frowned and kicked a stray piece of parchment across the room. "Well, I mean, you can _like _someone... doesn't mean anything's going to happen."

"Well, I don't see why it shouldn't." She was looking at him, eyebrows raised and questioningly.

He shrugged. He didn't really know what he was talking about. Well, he knew what he was getting at, but he didn't know how to get it out without sounding like an idiot. He was quite sure Hermione never had that problem. "I just mean... there's too much stuff getting in their way."

"Like what?"

"Like everything," he said simply.

Hermione sighed and scooted up a little until she was no longer leaning at all but fully sitting on the ledge. "I feel bad for them."

"Feel bad for them? Feel bad for _us. _We're not doing much better." He was positive he'd only thought this in his head until he saw the look on his face, and suddenly he was all too aware of the fact that his mouth spoke without his brain knowing it. He _hated _when it did that.

"Doing much better at what?" she asked, her face set curiously, as though she was just _waiting _on him to say it.

He didn't know why he just _didn't _say it, but he didn't. Instead, he carefully avoided her eyes and muttered a somewhat safe reply. "You know what."

It was the truth, too. She _did _know.

"Why don't you just tell me?"

He smirked, not really believing she was putting him through this. "Or you could just figure it out," he said blithely. Truthfully, there was nothing amusing about the situation at all, but he was trying his best not to look like a complete prat and freak out.

Hermione sighed and seemed to take that as the end of that particular line of conversation. She looked back out the window. "Ginny's really lucky, actually," she said knowingly. "Because she knows Harry, I mean. Lots of boys fancy her, you know?" Ron rolled his eyes, but Hermione promptly ignored him. "But she's lucky because she knows Harry's not just..." she seemed to search for the right word,"... not just a _boy."_

Ron rolled his eyes _again. _"Yeah, because Harry's so perfect," Ron muttered. "I'm sure he's not as innocent as you'd like to think."

"Well, he's good as far as they go," she said firmly. "Some boys are horrible."

"Yeah..." he smirked a little. "I guess you girls have really got to watch out for the rotten ones, huh?"

"Yeah, because I know so well," she rolled her eyes a little, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly..." Again she seemed to search for the right word, or rather name. Finally, she found it and mingled it with the tiniest of evil smirks. "I'm not exactly Lavender Brown, now am I?"

Ron snorted. "Lavender Brown. Right." Hermione raised her eyebrows, and he shook his head. "Lavender Brown is overrated."

"Yeah?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Hermione pursed her lips. "Huh. Well, you certainly didn't seem to think so a few months ago."

He wondered exactly what she was playing at, but he bit anyway. "Yeah, well, a few months ago, you weren't even speaking to me, and now look at us. So, you see, things _do _tend to change."

Hermione ignored the whole of his laststatement. "You seemed to enjoy her perfectly well."

Ron shrugged. "She's okay. I mean, you know, she _was. _Before she tried to hex me."

"Just okay?"

He shrugged again. "I mean, she's nice enough. She's pretty."

"She's _beautiful."_

He looked at her, trying hard to read exactly where she was headed with all of this. "She's not very bright."

This time, it was Hermione who snorted. "Oh, yes. Because _intelligence _is so much more attractive than blonde hair. What was it you said last summer? No bloke in his right mind would ever go for Tonks when Fleur was around?"

Not for the first time in his life, Ron wondered how the _hell _she managed to do that. "You'd think your brain would have reached maximum capacity by now."

It was obvious that she did not want to smile, but it was also just as obvious that what she wanted didn't matter. She lost that battle. "Shut up."

"You know, that was an amazing comeback. I was going to say that there was no way you could still be at the top of your game, but clearly, I was wrong."

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Ha, ha. _Very _funny."

"_Anyway," _he ducked as she tried to smack him, still not willing to fall out the window, "like I was saying, Lavender's alright, but she's definitely not the smartest person I've ever met in my life."

"Now, there's a shocker."

"You are."

"I am what?" She looked up at him inquisitively.

"The smartest person I've ever met."

Hermione turned a delightful shade of pink before looking away and mumbling, "No, I'm not." She was smiling shyly, though.

"Are you insane?" Sometimes he really couldn't believe her.

"You know loads of people who are smarter than me." She faced him again and started naming names. "Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Professor-"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Okay, the smartest person under the age of a hundred."

Hermione went right on, naming people under a hundred. "Professor Lupin, Tonks, Bill, Percy-"

He cut her off. "Okay, stop. I am going to ignore the fact that you just referred to Percy as one of the smartest people in the world when he is clearly a giant idiot, and I'm just going to pretend that you got the point I was trying to make." He'd been trying to make several points, but she seemed to have missed them all.

Or perhaps she didn't.

She slid off the windowsill and moved to stand directly in front of him. They were at eye-level like this, with him leaning and her standing, and she looked straight at him. "I got it."

The air in his room seemed to change around them. Hermione was looking at him in a way that made him very aware of all of his senses. He couldn't remember her ever staring at him that intently before, and he was suddenly and very inexplicably terrified of her.

It wasn't the first time he could recall the feeling that she could read his mind. She knew that he was suddenly frightened, and her face softened. When she spoke, her voice was gentle and quiet, yet it was still firm at the same time. "Ron," she moved one of her hands to rest beside his head on the window frame, "if you want to say something... just say it."

Just say it?

Did she expect him to just come right out and say _it _as casually as if he'd told her it was Thursday? She had to be bloody out of that brilliant mind if she thought it was that simple. He couldn't just say it. He couldn't say _anything _actually. His mouth and brain seemed to have cut off communication with each other, and he was aware that he mouthed wordlessly for a couple of seconds before just giving up.

"_Ron_." She was whispering now, still looking at him, almost _pleading _with her eyes. And he didn't know why he just _didn't _say it. She wouldn't laugh; he knew she wouldn't. She wouldn't be horrified or disgusted or incensed. He _knew _she wouldn't. He could say it, and everything would be fine. It would probably even be better than fine.

But he just couldn't make his voice work.

A better idea, he knew, would be to just _kiss _her. His blood heated up at the thought. He'd been wondering for so long, wondering how it would feel to just grab her and snog her breathless. He wanted to. Probably more than he'd ever wanted anything in his life. He'd thought about it so much, that he was almost convinced that he would actually be disappointed when he finally got around to doing it, just because he imagined it to be so perfect and brilliant. But he knew, though, that he _wouldn't_ be disappointed. No matter how many times he thought about it, he _knew _that it would still manage to be better than anything he'd ever imagined.

Sort of in the same manner that his brain had cut off communication with his mouth, it seemed to have done the same thing with his hands. The difference, though, was that while his mouth couldn't function properly without his brain, his hand seemed towork quite well.Without even knowing it, he'd taken Hermione's hand and was currently pulling her toward him.

He was going to do it.

He didn't know where the guts had come from, but he was going to _do _it. He was going to kiss her. She knew exactly what was about to happen, too. He could tell by her face, by the way her eyes bore into his with the same nervous anticipation he knew was reflected in his own.

"_There _you are!"

Hermione gasped and spun around, yanking her hand out of his own. Ron, for what it was worth, managed _not _to fall out the window. But just barely.

As heightened as all of his senses had been just moments before, he'd somehow managed to miss his mother's footsteps coming up the stairs and down the hall. Apparently his hearing was one he needed to work on. She was standing in the doorway, looking at them with a harried sort of look.

"Dinner has been ready for ten minutes, and I've been looking all over for you. Now where's Ginny? And Harry?"

Ron glanced unconsciously back out the window. He could tell that the two missing parties were now lying side by side. Very _close, _side by side. His mum marched over to the window and looked out, obviously curious as to what Ron was glancing at. She looked down for a moment and said nothing. Half a second later, though, her mouth set in a firm line, and she shook her head.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, _no_," she muttered under her breath. "Not in _my _house."

Ron should have just kept quiet, but he couldn't help it. He'd always been cheeky. "Technically, Mum, they're not actually _in _the house."

She immediately jerked her attention away from whatever rendezvous was taking place in her backyard and glared at him. "Shut it," she said tightly. "And get downstairs!"

She turned and started to stomp from the room, obviously on her way to tell off Harry and Ginny, which actually was sort of amusing. Just before she got to the door, though, she stopped as though she'd suddenly had a great epiphany and spun around to look at them, pointing a single finger in their direction.

"_Not _in my house. And I mean it." She gave Ron a hard look before turning the same one to Hermione, who turned very red and immediately looked down at the floor.

Ron didn't know whether to be afraid or amused. He chose no reaction, which was definitely the right choice, as his mother spun back around and took off in a frenzy down the stairs.

The awkward silence that was left in her wake, though, wasn't amusing at all.

"So..." Ron grasped around blindly for anything to say, thankful that his voice was working again. "Dinner."

Hermione swallowed and nodded, still looking at the floor. "Right. Dinner." She hesitated for a second before shaking her head. "So... See you." She left in a hurry.

Ron let out the hugest breath, despite the fact that he hadn't even been aware he was holding it. So _close. _

He let his head fall back to the wall behind him, and he closed his eyes. It was okay. He wasn't going to dwell on it. The time would come. He knew it would. And he knew _she _knew it would.

After all, they had an understanding.

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A/N: Than you very much for the reviews from the first chapter. I welcome any and all comments, good or bad.


	3. Boys Girls Total Rubbish

A/N: I know that it has been awhile since I updated, but I've been really busy. Sorry for the wait, but here you go. Hope you enjoy it.

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A week later, Harry found himself staying in a little room at The Leaky Cauldron. Mr. Weasley had taken him and Ron to London for their Apparation exams and had decided that they shouldn't travel so much one in day. So they took out rooms at The Leaky Cauldron and visited with the twins for awhile.

The morning of the exam, though, Harry found himself sitting at the breakfast table with Ron across from him looking much paler than normal. He was clearly nervous, his lip twitching every so often and his eyes unfocused. Most importantly, though, he hadn't _touched _his breakfast.

He looked exactly the way he did before each and every Quidditch practice.

"What's up with you?" Harry asked, hoping to draw Ron's attention away from the nervousness, as he knew Ron would be forced to make up some excuse as to why his face was so pale and his appetite so absent.

"What?" Ron looked up quickly. "I'm fine."

Harry nodded, noticing the jumpiness of Ron's demeanor. He thought again and figured that it was probably best just to pretend like he believed him. "Don't you want any breakfast?"

"I've got breakfast," Ron said absently, motioning to the full plate in front of him. Harry didn't point out that he hadn't eaten a single bite.

"Well, we'd better get going, hadn't we? It's almost nine o'clock."

Ron's face went impossibly paler, but he nodded nonetheless. "Dad, we've got to go."

Mr. Weasley looked up from the conversation that he was currently having at the bar with Tom. He turned his head toward the boys and nodded. "Alright then. You boys be careful, though. Right there and back, okay?" Harry and Ron nodded as they got up from the table. Mr. Weasley walked over to join them and lowered his voice slightly. "Now I'm being serious. If your mother knew I was letting you go on your own, she'd have my head. Be _careful. _And stay together."

"Dad, we're not six," Ron mumbled, though he didn't sound strong enough to protest too much.

"I know you're not six, but that doesn't mean you're not in danger."

"We know what-" Ron started to protest a bit further, but Harry cut him off.

"We'll be careful."

Mr. Weasley seemed to accept this answer and nodded. Glancing from one to the other, he said, "Well, good luck then. The next time I see you, you'll both be licensed Apparitionists."

"Hopefully," Ron muttered, his face wrinkled slightly as though he were in physical pain.

"You'll be fine," Mr. Weasley said confidently, clapping his son on the shoulder. He did the same thing to Harry. "You both will."

They bid Mr. Weasley goodbye and set off for the examination site. Harry was still surprised that they were allowed to go anywhere in Diagon Alley alone, but he didn't question it. He was glad to be out on their own for a bit. They attempted a conversation, but Harry felt that it was very one-sided, as Ron contributed little more than mumbled replies. Harry finally gave up and decided that Ron would just have to stew in his own nervousness because trying to talk to him was just too tiring. He was very glad when they finally reached the examination building.

Harry was surprised to see so many people milling around the small registration area because it seemed that he was one of the very few in his year who was left behind during the first test. He assumed, though, that quite a few people must have failed the test the first time around. He looked around for any of his friends and spotted Neville Longbottom waving to him as he obviously attempted to squeeze through the crowd.

"Hey!" Neville said brightly when he finally managed to make it over to them. "I was hoping to see someone I knew, but I didn't know who was coming."

"How's your summer been, Neville?" Ron looked slightly less nervous now that they were actually there, which Harry thought was a bit odd. He didn't complain, though.

"Oh, it's been okay," Neville said, shrugging. "My arm's all better."

Neville's arm had been hurt during the battle with the Death Eaters at Hogwarts. Harry hadn't witnessed the fight for more than a few minutes, but he would have given anything now to have been there instead of watching Dumbledore being murdered in the Astronomy Tower. He didn't like to think about that night at all, though, so he just forced a half-smile and told Neville that he was glad his arm had healed.

"Is Hermione here?" Neville glanced around. "I mean, I know she already got her license, but I didn't know if she might come anyway."

"No, she stayed home with my mum and my sister," Ron answered, looking at Neville with slight suspicion, as though he thought Neville was showing too much interest in Hermione.

"Oh," Neville seemed surprised. "So she's at your house then?"

"She's _always _at my house."

Harry wanted to laugh, but he controlled himself.

"I didn't know that," Neville said thoughtfully. "I just assumed she stayed with her parents on holiday."

"No, she lives with me."

This wasn't exactly true, but Harry assumed it was close enough. He and Hermione had both spent more time at the Burrow over the last several years than they had with their own families. Hermione even more than him, and she _liked _her family.

Harry noticed the area close to the registration table was clearing up somewhat, and he figured that they should get checked in before Ron started making any _other _claims on Hermione that weren't exactly accurate.

"We need to sign in," he said to Ron. "Did you already, Neville?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, my gran made me get here early because she said it would get crowded fast."

"She was right," Harry said, acknowledging the throes of people surrounding them. They weren't all teenagers, either; some of them were much older.

"Well, I'll catch up with you later then." Neville waved at them as they made their way toward the registration line. On their way, though, they bumped into another familiar face. More familiar to Ron than to Harry.

"Hey, Lavender..."

Harry wasn't sure what else to say when they were shoved into the line right behind her. He'd spotted her too late and had accidentally stepped on her heels, causing her to turn around and see who the offender was. She looked at them for a long moment until Ron finally muttered, "Hi, Lavender," to his shoes.

"Hello, _Harry,"_ she said pointedly. "How are you?"

"Okay. You?"

"Oh, _very _well." She said this as though it had some hidden meaning. Harry wasn't sure what it was supposed to be. "Excited to get your license?"

"Yeah. Well, hopefully I'll pass."

Lavender laughed, an evil, shrill kind of laugh. More of an evil, shrill kind of giggle actually. "Oh, of course you'll pass. Only a complete idiot could _fail!"_

She knew perfectly well that Ron had failed the first time, as she'd tried to console him over it at the time. If Harry remembered correctly, she'd spent an hour and a half telling him that the examiner was probably just a bitter old man who failed people for laughs. She'd also said that Apparating was "really hard" and that _anyone _could have messed up. Of course, right after that, Ron had escaped her and spent the rest of the evening planning Harry's foray into getting Slughorn to reveal his knowledge of the Horcruxes. And later that night, Lavender had dumped him for good.

Harry thought her comment now was a bit mean, but he also thought Ron kind of deserved it. Not that he would _ever _tell Ron that.

"Yeah, well. Hopefully," he said, trying to ease the tension.

"Oh, Harry," Lavender said brightly, still completely ignoring Ron. "My little cousin, Olivia, has spent all summer talking about. She does it _all _the time. 'Harry Potter this and Harry Potter that. And Lavender, you're _so _lucky to know him!' She's so excited to start at Hogwarts this year. She's a bit obsessed with you!"

Harry didn't know what to say or how excited he was supposed to be at the prospect of an eleven year old's obsession with him. He was also more than a bit suspicious of Lavender's motive for telling him. "Er, really?"

Lavender nodding, smiling that perfect smile she had. "She's so cute, has quite the crush on you. I told her that you were probably the cutest boy in the school, _definitely _heads above the other ones in our year."

Harry was starting to figure out the motive.

"Of course," Lavender went right on without skipping a beat, "I told her it didn't matter because _loads _of girls liked you already, and out of those, only two of them had any kind of a chance."

"Two?" He was terrified of the answer.

"Yes, of course. Ginny," she paused for what could only be dramatic effect, "and Hermione."

Now Harry was _positive _of her motive.

"Yeah," he said, completely unconvinced. "I don't think Hermione's quite on board with that one..."

"Oh, don't be silly!" Lavender laughed and playfully shoved at his shoulder. "All she ever does is talk about you! Well, besides do homework and read anyway. She goes on and on about you all the time. She has ever since I've known her."

Harry was sure of two things. One, Hermione did not, in any for or fashion, fancy him. And two, Ron could kick his arse if he really wanted to. He was also sure that if there was one girl who could destroy his friendship with Ron, it would be, not Ginny, as he'd once feared, but ironically, his other best friend.

"Hermione and I are _friends," _he said firmly. He didn't dare look at Ron, though he could feel Ron's eyes boring into him.

Lavender shrugged, a smug kind of look on her face. Thankfully, she was at the front of the line now and was forced to stop her torment. Harry still didn't look at Ron the whole time she was registering, from the time she gave her name, "Brown, B-R-O-W-N, comma, Lavender, L-A-V-E-N-D-E-R," until she finished by instructing the registration worker, "You can go ahead and get the 'P' file out for Potter and _Prat."_

She turned around and shoved right between Harry and Ron as she walked away, purposely swinging her long blonde hair and smacking Ron right in the face with it. Ron went to the table without a word to Harry and forcefully gave his name to the worker. Harry didn't try to talk to him until after he, too, had registered. He was actually surprised that Ron waited for him at all, though he could tell that he only waited because he begrudgingly felt he had to.

Harry didn't know what to say, so he settled with, "Lavender's full of shit, you know that, right?"

Ron just shrugged as they made their way to a less crowded part of the room. His lips were very thin.

"She's just mad at you."

Ron rolled his eyes and finally spoke. "Really? You got that, too? I'm surprised I figured it out correctly, seeing as how I'm a _complete idiot."_

Harry resisted the urge to throttle his best friend and ignored the sarcasm. "If you know that, then why are you acting like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like _that."_

Ron just raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't aware that I was acting any way."

Harry rolled his own eyes. "Fine."

"I mean, why does she think I care about that anyway?" Ron obviously didn't care that Harry had just tried to end the conversation. "Like I _care _who Hermione likes. She can bloody well like whoever she fucking wants to."

Harry didn't even attempt to get into how very wrong Lavender was and how very _well _Ron knew it. "She's just mad at you, and she blames Hermione."

"What the hell does she blame Hermione for?"

Harry wanted to smack some sense into him, but he remembered his earlier thought that Ron could potentially cause him a great deal of pain if provoked. "Lavender blames Hermione for _everything. _She blames her for the Common Room always being a mess on Sundays because the house elves have the day off. She blames her for killing the grading curve."

"Well, those things _are _Hermione's fault."

Harry nodded. "Exactly. And Lavender blames Hermione for you ignoring her the majority of the time you were supposed to be her boyfriend."

"That's bullshit. I ignored her because she's annoying."

"She blames Hermione."

"That's stupid."

"No one ever said Lavender was smart."

Ron frowned, but then he settled for a determined sort of look. "Well, that's really dumb. Hermione didn't have anything to do with that."

"Well, like I said, no one ever said Lavender was smart. But don't tell me, I'm not the one who dated her for five and a half months..."

Ron just gave him a little glare. "Shut it. Have you _seen _Lavender?"

He wasn't going to argue with him on that one. Lavender was very pretty; she'd always been very pretty, even when they were children. But what had once been a cute little girl with blonde pigtails and a sprinkle of freckles had turned into one of the most beautiful girls in their year, complete with blonde hair that fell to her waist, nearly purple eyes, and all the other, um, parts that a bloke would find attractive.

In fact, Harry knew that a lot of the other boys had been jealous of Ron, and he wondered if perhaps that was part of the reason Ron couldn't ever force himself to call it quits with Lavender. For once in his life, he knew that people _envied _him over something. Of course, Harry was also sure that the snogging part didn't hurt.

But he knew that Ron never really liked Lavender. He might have liked the _idea _of Lavender, the _look _of Lavender, but he didn't like _Lavender. _Mostly he liked the fact that Hermione _didn't _like Lavender. And that was what it really came down to.

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Hermione couldn't remember the Burrow ever being so quiet.

Not that she'd grown up there or anything, but she'd spent plenty of time there over the past few years and couldn't remember ever just hearing... nothing. She knew, of course, that the majority of the noise usually came from the twins, and seeing as how they lived on their own now, she wasn't surprised to find the Weasley home in a somewhat more peaceful state. But still. There was usually _something _going on, with or without the twins.

But now there was nothing.

Ron and Harry had left the day before for London. They were going to take their Apparating tests, and Mr. Weasley had offered to take them up a day early. Hermione had tried to go, too, but she hadn't won that battle. Not when Mrs. Weasley scoffed and said she should stay home, since there was absolutely no reason to rent two rooms when Ron, Harry, and Mr. Weasley could all stay in one.

Hermione hadn't tried to argue, as she knew it would be pretty pointless. She knew not to test Molly Weasley once she'd made up her mind on a decision, even on a good day. So she'd just wished the boys good luck and had spent the entire day before weeding the garden with Ginny.

Mrs. Weasley had spent most of yesterday and all of today in the kitchen preparing a congratulatory dinner for Ron and Harry. Hermione wasn't sure they should be so presumptuous, as she didn't want to jinx them. She knew how minor Ron's mistake had been in April, and he had failed then. She didn't think it was right to just go and assume that they were both going to pass this time, but she didn't say anything.

Earlier that day, Mrs. Weasley had demanded that she and Ginny help in the kitchen. She'd set them to tasks and ended up kicking them out within an hour, proclaiming that they were both useless. She'd actually used the word "useless," and Hermione found herself a tad bit offended. She'd asked Mrs. Weasley if she honestly thought that all females were useless if they didn't enjoy things like cooking and cleaning.

Ginny decided quite suddenly that she really needed Hermione's help on her Transfiguration homework.

When they were safely in the bedroom, Ginny let out a breath and shook her head. "Do not get Mum started on what the duties of _proper _young women are. _Please._ She'll never shut up."

Hermione frowned and tried to hold her tongue. It didn't work. "Well, sorry," she said quickly, "but that's a really backwards way of thinking, don't you think?"

Ginny shrugged. "I just ignore it. She already thinks I'm a failure of a daughter just because I can't bake a satisfactory apple crisp."

"Doesn't she know how good you are at school? Isn't that more important?"

"First of all," Ginny sat down at her vanity and started braiding her hair into two plaits, "I'm not that great at school. And second of all, she doesn't think that matters if I can't even cook a decent meal. _'What man is going to want to marry you if you can't even mend his clothes properly?' _That's the sort of thing I get, so I just try not to get her started."

Hermione's mouth literally fell open. "But Ginny!" she protested quickly. "That's so stupid! If a man wants his clothes mended, he should figure out how to do it himself."

Ginny sort of smiled and continued to twist her hair. "Well, Mum doesn't exactly agree on those sort of sentiments. She thinks it's important to learn, but she also thinks women should have other talents besides book smarts."

"Well, does she know how great you are at Quidditch?"

Ginny snorted. "Please! She doesn't even want me _playing, _so she certainly doesn't give a rat's arse if I'm any good or not."

"Well," Hermione said slowly, "maybe you'll find a boy who thinks Quidditch is more important than mended clothes and apple crisp..."

Ginny just looked at her through the reflection of the mirror, brows raised.

"Harry, I mean," Hermione finished. "He cares more about Quidditch than he does about any sort of dessert, holes in his clothes, or school marks."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry. Right. Only problem, see, though, is that Harry ditched me like last week's trash."

"Ginny, he only ditched you because he thought it was the right thing to do. He still likes you." Hermione knew it was the truth and figured that Ginny had to know it, too.

Ginny, though, just shrugged her shoulders disinterestedly. "Whatever. I don't care. I am _over _Harry Potter."

Hermione was skeptical, though, and she let Ginny know it. "Oh, right. I remember two years ago when you told me that you were _over _Harry Potter."

"And I _was..."_

"So what was this year then?" Hermione crossed her arms and started at Ginny's reflection. Ginny, though, didn't seem phased.

"This year was Harry liking _me," _she said plainly. "I guess he just likes what he can't have or something, I don't know. But yes, I was flattered that he liked me, and yes, I _did _start to like him back. But I'm not eleven years old. He obviously doesn't want to be with me now, so I'm not going to waste my time mooning over him like some silly little girl. That's not who I am anymore."

"So that's it then? You're just giving up?"

"I didn't _have_ to give up. There's nothing _to_ give up. It's over."

Hermione wanted to shake Ginny. Or something. She thought it was a bit anti-climactic, what with Ginny having spent all these years lusting after Harry, and now she was just letting it go like it was no big deal. Like she hadn't just had all her childhood wishes fulfilled and ripped away from her.

Just like it was nothing...

"I don't understand you," she said honestly.

Ginny turned around and sighed a little. "Look, he's just a boy, right? It's not like it's the end of the world or something."

"But it's _Harry."_

Ginny nodded. "Exactly. It's Harry. And you know Harry. Especially when he gets all noble and heroic and martyr-like."

Hermione wanted to say more, but she didn't even bother wasting her breath. "I thought you needed help with Transfiguration."

Ginny wrinkled her nose and fell to her bed, grabbing the latest issue of _Teen Witch _as she did. "Ugh, no. Homework is not my idea of fun, Hermione."

"Well, maybe it should be," Hermione muttered.

Ginny looked at her with raised eyebrows for a moment before shaking her head and laying down with the magazine. Hermione watched her read for awhile and finally decided that at least one of them needed to be doing something productive, so she got out her own Transfiguration homework. It was the hardest summer assignment she'd ever had; well, maybe not the _hardest, _but it was certainly the most involved. She'd been working on it for weeks now. Of course, Harry and Ron hadn't even started theirs. But what else was new?

After a few minutes, Ginny sat up a little and moved the magazine to her lap. "Listen to my horoscope."

Hermione groaned. "Don't tell me you actually believe that stuff. It's a bunch of rubbish, you know?"

"It's _astrology," _Ginny said primly. "And it's not rubbish. These things are really accurate most of the time."

"It's just some cheap form of Divination. They're only accurate because you go out of your way to make them _seem _accurate."

"Whatever," Ginny said dismissively, "Just listen." She sat up even straighter and cleared her throat. "The boy of your dreams is seeing you while he sleeps, but his friends are holding him back. This month holds hardships for your family, but the 7th will hold a pleasant surprise for all involved. Be on the lookout for insincere promises."

Hermione just looked at her and waited for her to finish. After Ginny stopped reading, she continued her plight against horoscopes. "See, Ginny? The 7th has already passed, and I don't remember any pleasant surprise."

"Well, there could have been," Ginny defended. "And we just didn't realize what it was at the time. That's been too long ago for me to remember anyway." She paused for a second, a thoughtful look on her face. "I wonder what his friends have against me."

"Whose friends?"

"The boy of my dreams. It says they're holding him back from me."

"Ginny, that is ridiculous. I can't believe you buy into that stuff."

"Here's yours." Hermione groaned, but Ginny went right on anyway. "The object of your lust is finally ready to take the plunge. Look for him to make his move around the 24th when the stars align in your favor. Be patient, it's worth the wait." Ginny put the magazine down with a huge grin. "Finally!"

"Finally what?"

"Finally Ron's going to get his arse into gear, I guess."

"_Ginny!" _Hermione was horrified, and she felt her face heat up instantly.

"Oh, come on," Ginny rolled her eyes. "Don't even _try _to pull that with me, okay? I know you too well."

"That is _ridiculous,"_ she said firmly. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Hermione, why are you _lying?" _Ginny got up, and within one swift movement, she'd fallen down next to Hermione on her bed. "You just sat there and gave me a three hour lecture on Harry, and now you want to pretend as if there's a different standard for yourself?"

"It was hardly three hours," Hermione said sharply. "Dramatic much?"

Again with the rolling of the eyes. Ginny just shrugged. "Whatever. All I know is I'm right. And you know it." She fixed her eyes on Hermione and wouldn't let her break eye-contact. "You _like _him. Just admit it already."

Hermione felt as though her face were on fire. And she sort of hated Ginny in that moment. Finally, though, she just rolled her own eyes. "Well, who cares? It's not like it matters anyway, does it? In case you haven't noticed, your brother's an idiot."

"Trust me. I've noticed. But it _does _matter, Hermione. Or at least it'll matter around the 24th."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione snapped. "I don't listen to Divination. Especially the type that comes in _Teen Witch."_

Ginny just smirked, though. "I'm right, and you know it. You just wait and see..."

"Sometimes," Hermione said, "you and Ron are like twins. Sarcastic, hot-tempered, _irrational._ But other times, you're just so different, it's hard to believe you're even related. Even Ron wouldn't buy into horoscopes."

"Well, perhaps that's because he doesn't know the stars are working in his favor on the 24th, _which," _she went on, "just happens to be next week."

"Can't even believe you're related..."

"Look," Ginny said, tilting her head. "Just because we're siblings doesn't mean we're exactly alike. In fact, Ron and I are more alike than just about anyone else. Except for the twins obviously. But other than that, nobody is really alike. I don't think a lot of siblings are."

"The twins are exactly alike."

"Not _all _twins," Ginny interjected. "Look at Parvati and Padma. They _look _identical, but-"

"Padma's smart," Hermione supplied. Then she felt bad for insinuating that Parvati was stupid, so she tried to fix it. "I mean, Parvati's not dumb. But she pretends to be sometimes."

"Well, I suppose she has to come down to the level that her friends are on, doesn't she?"

Hermione smiled despite herself. She knew what Ginny was talking about, but she didn't comment on it.

"And sometimes," Ginny kept going, "siblings are totally night and day. I mean, look at Sirius, and wasn't his brother a _Death Eater?"_

Hermione nodded, but she was suddenly struck with a revelation so big that she stopped in mid-nod. Her eyes went big, and she heard Ginny talking to her.

"Uh, Hermione? You okay?"

Hermione focused her eyes on the other girl, barely believing her own idea. "Ginny," she said slowly, "do you know when Ron and Harry are getting back?"

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The moment the boys arrived home from London, Hermione ran to the door and met them.

"I've got to tell you something _very_ important!" She'd said it so quickly that Ron had, at first, thought something was terribly wrong. But once she'd grabbed them both by the hands and dragged up three flights of stairs to Ron's room, he realized that it was actually the opposite of terribly wrong.

Sort of.

She'd apparently figured out who the mysterious R.A.B. was and had been dying to tell them for hours. It was hard to get excited about the fact that they were all going to risk their lives trying to find these damn Horcruxes, but he figured that the fact that Hermione was starting to at least _somewhat _track them down was encouraging. Sort of.

But it still didn't make a whole lot of sense.

"Regulus Black?" Harry's eyebrows were raised in question, and Ron understood his skepticism. It _did _sound pretty outlandish.

"Yes," Hermione said firmly. She was sitting on the bed, and she'd pulled them down to either side of her. Her face was very serious, and she didn't seem to doubt herself at all.

"But Sirius said that his brother was a Death Eater," Ron said, pointing out what he thought was obvious. "Why would _he _want to steal the Horcrux and destroy it?"

"Because," Hermione answered properly, "he didn't like what the Death Eaters were doing once he got involved, remember?"

"Yeah," Harry said slowly, as though he were starting to believe it. "He wanted out, but Sirius said you don't just leave the Death Eaters."

"Of course you don't," Hermione said, shrugging her shoulders at the obviousness of her statement. "I'm quite sure it's one of those in there for life sort of things."

"And," Harry went on, obviously more convinced than ever, "he said that Voldemort killed Sirius. Or probably had him killed anyway."

"Exactly!" Hermione drew in a quick breath. "Plus, R.A.B. referred to Voldemort as the Dark Lord. Who calls him the Dark Lord besides the Death Eaters?"

"A ton of Slytherins," Ron said pointedly.

"Yeah, probably Death Eaters-in-training." Harry's tone was bitter, and the room fell into an uncomfortable silence for a few seconds. They never discussed the fact that Ron and Hermione hadn't believed Harry's suspicions the year before about Malfoy being a Death Eater. It was just a subject that they generally avoided as much as possible.

"Regardless," Hermione pressed on a few moments later, "I really, really think Regulus Black is R.A.B."

"It does all make sense..." Harry shook his head, almost as though he were in disbelief. "Hermione, you're-"

"A genius?" Ron cut in. "No one but _you _could put all this together."

Hermione was clearly trying not to appear too pleased with herself. It was one of her more common faces. "Well, it was right there in front of us the whole time. We were just looking too hard. It's all so _simple!"_

Ron wasn't too sure about that. But then again, there were several things that Hermione seemed to think were simple that he found himself disagreeing with. Like Summoning Charms. And Potions. And Apparating.

Just to name a few.

"And Harry," she went on quickly, "you do know that if Regulus Black _did _take the locket, there's a good chance he took it home with him. And if he took it home with him, then it belongs to you..."

Harry seemed to be taking all of this in; he was doing a better job at it than Ron was. He'd become slightly distracted by a loose strand of Hermione's hair that had fallen into her eye that she didn't even seem to notice. He wanted to reach up and move it.

"So instead of going to Godric's Hollow..."

"We need to go to Grimmauld Place. Right." Hermione nodded and finally shoved the stray hair out of her face.

With nothing else distracting him, Ron glanced at Harry and saw the slightly disappointed face that Harry was trying hard to hide. Hermione obviously noticed it, too, because she smiled encouragingly and went right on talking.

"But we can still go to Grodic's Hollow some time. I mean, we've got Christmas break. And then all next summer..." Her voice trailed off when she noticed that neither of her friends seemed quite as encouraged. There was no need to voice it, but they were all thinking the same thing.

There might not be a Christmas break. They might not even make it to summer holiday.

Ron decided to do his duty and break the uneasy and nervous silence. "Well, guess what, Hermione. We both passed."

Hermione smiled more brightly. "That's great! Sorry I didn't ask, I was just... distracted."

He shrugged. "It's okay. And look," he shoved his own hair out of his eyes. "Both eyebrows."

Hermione laughed and shook her head as though she were at a loss for words. "And you Harry? Still completely intact?"

Harry nodded, obviously trying to get his mind off the looming task in front of them. "Every hair."

"Neville failed," Ron broke in. "He was really upset, said his gran's going to murder him."

"Oh, no," Hermione looked truly concerned. "He was probably just nervous."

"Yeah. His arm's better, though."

She looked relieved and slightly tense at the same time, as though she were glad that Neville was recovering just fine but wasn't too keen on being reminded of that night in June. "Well, that's good. Hopefully he can take it again in November and do alright." Ron and Harry both nodded, having just relayed the very same message to Neville hours before. "And who else? Did Ernie pass?" They nodded, and Hermione concentrated for a moment, moving her lips silently as she went through all the people she could think of, trying to find one who hadn't taken or passed the test already. She arrived at a very random name. "Malfoy? Malfoy wasn't there, was he?"

Ron hadn't even realized Malfoy's absence, but she was right. He was in the younger half of the class and should have been at the day's examination. He wasn't, though.

"No," Harry answered. "I wondered if he would be there, but he wasn't."

"He's probably in hiding, don't you think?" Hermione said seriously.

"Yeah," Harry sounded severely depressed. "Either that, or he's dead somewhere."

Ron couldn't comprehend even a remote possibility as to why that news would be depressing in any way.

Hermione went on, though, clearly not wanting to stay on the subject of Draco Malfoy too long. "What about Alexis McMillan?" Ron shrugged; he didn't know who Alexis McMillan was. Apparently Harry didn't, either. Hermione went back to her concentration, silently naming off members of their class until finally, "Lavender? Was Laven..." her voice trailed slightly, as though she had suddenly just remembered that she didn't like her roommate. "Was Lavender there?" she finished flatly, attempting to sound casual.

Ron stared at her profile, but she refused to look at him. Instead, she looked directly at Harry, her eyes intent on staying focused there. Harry did them all a favor and answered.

"Yeah, she was there. I don't know if she passed or not; I didn't see her after the test."

"Did you talk to her?" Hermione asked pointedly. Ron had a feeling that this was a test and that Harry was caught in the middle of one of Hermione's experiments, but he wasn't sure enough to figure out what to do about it.

"Yeah, we talked for a bit." Harry shrugged.

"Did _you _talk to her?" Ron watched as her head turned slowly in his direction and her eyes met his own.

He didn't have a clue what the right answer was.

Wishing he could glance at Harry for help but knowing that he would fail the test if he did so, he just shook his head. "No. She's mad at me, I think."

Hermione snorted. Actually _snorted. _"Oh, now there's a shock."

"Well, she's crazy!" he said hotly, growing a bit angry.

"Yes, says the one who dated her for six months."

He wondered when Hermione had gotten so sarcastic. "First of all," he said sharply, "I did not date her for six months. And second of all, have you _seen-"_

Harry's loud coughing fit cut him off.

Hermione turned her head quickly to glare at Harry.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly, coughing a bit more. "I got choked on something..."

Hermione rolled her eyes and whipped sharply back around to Ron. "Have I seen _what?"_

Ron was positive that Harry was absolutely the best mate any guy could ever have, and he made a mental note to thank him later for his intervention into Ron's own stupidity.

"My blue jacket?" he asked, attempting a smooth tone. "I can't find it anywhere."

Hermione's eyes narrowed into such thin slits that Ron was positive they were going to disappear all together. She looked at him furiously for another few moments before standing up. "I'm not your maid," she said hatefully, and then she disappeared with a loud crack.

"She could have went out the door and slammed it behind her," Harry observed a second later. "Would have had more effect."

Ron let out a breath that he wasn't aware he'd been holding. "Thanks, mate," he said honestly, dropping onto his back and staring up at the ceiling.

"Yeah, well," Harry shrugged, "I didn't really want to hear her screaming, either."

"I don't know what her deal is," Ron said, shaking his head slowly as he continued to stare at the ceiling, as though the chipped paint and cracked wall were going to provide him with any answers.

"What do you mean what her deal is?"

Ron shrugged, or at least moved his shoulder and head in some attempt at a shrug. "She's just... I don't know. She doesn't get it."

"Get what?"

Ron kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. "I try and try, you know? But it's like it doesn't even matter because it's not good enough."

"Ron," Harry sounded a little wary, and Ron understood why; this wasn't the type of conversation they normally had. "What exactly have you tried?"

Ron was quiet for a minute, trying to think of a way to put it. It was embarrassing, but he was sort of sick of denying it. Finally, he just closed his eyes and said, "I never liked Lavender."

"Well, that was only slightly obvious."

"Well, if it was so damn obvious, then why does Hermione-" he cut himself off, no longer in the mood for this conversation. "I don't care. Anyway," he opened his eyes and fixed them on Harry, "you and Ginny. On or off?"

"Off."

Ron nodded. "That's probably best. She'd just get in the way, you know?"

Harry nodded slowly. "I know," he said quietly, but his eyes were dark, and he stayed quiet after that, staring at a place on the wall opposite them.

Ron closed his own eyes and decided he'd rather girls just not exist at all.

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